Wide Awake
by kittyfantastico
Summary: Chapter 4 Sydney lies in a coma, and the world as we know it is not real. If she wakes up, how will she deal with this revelation?
1. Wide Awake

Firstly, I'd just like to say a big YAY that the GCSEs are FINALLY over!!! YAY! No more exams!  
  
This takes place after the first scene of A Free Agent, but for it to work with the story I've had to re-write the first scene. I loved the way it was done in the show but that just wouldn't have worked with my story. I've also got references to Truth Be Told but my memory of that episode is hazy and the transcript wasn't much help so I may have got things wrong.  
  
This idea was sparked off by something I read about The Telling before I could avert my eyes (please, no references to The Telling in reviews, I'm trying so hard to stay spoiler-free!). The story was inspired by the Buffy episode "Normal Again" (which, btw, is an amazing piece of TV). Thank you Joss and the people at ME for 7 years of great TV. Well, this is neither the time nor the place to mourn the loss of my favourite show, so on with the story!  
  
Lastly, PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A ray of light crept in through the window, warming Sydney's face and forcing her to wake up. She kept her eyes closed as tiredness overcame her and she pretended that she was still asleep. She had to fight the smile that threatened to take over her face when she became aware of the warm arms holding her close, and the memories of the previous night swept through her. Eyes still closed, she thought of her newfound freedom. SD-6 was gone. Gone forever, and she could be free. Her thoughts were interrupted by a drowsy murmur near her ear.  
  
"I know you're awake. I can see you smiling," she could almost hear the smile in Vaughn's voice.  
  
"Shhh! No, I'm not. I'm asleep," she replied with a giggle. All the time her eyes remained shut and all she could see was the comforting darkness that surrounded her. She heard a voice in the back of her mind. She recognised it instantly, for it was none other than her own.  
  
"Come on, Sydney. It's time to wake up," it, or rather, she, said. Sydney was confused. What did it mean, it's time to wake up? She was already awake. "Sydney," the voice continued, more sternly this time, "it's safe to wake up now."  
  
Thoroughly confused, and sure she was imagining things, Sydney slowly opened her eyes. The sight she was greeted with gave her a shock she would never forget. Instead of the comfortable bedroom she loved so much, her eyes met with the stark white walls of a little room. The room was empty, save for the small bed she was in, a table on one side of it, and a chair on the other. There was a window on one side of the wall behind her bed, and the door in the far corner was slightly ajar, revealing a corridor with walls much the same colour as the room she was in. Sydney took in all of this in a matter of seconds, and shifted her gaze to the chair by her bed, the occupant of which was staring at her, wide-eyed, as if she had arrived from another planet. She recognised him and opened her mouth to say his name, but the confident statement she had been intending came out as a pleading whisper. She tried again.  
  
"Vaughn?"  
  
"Oh my God. . . Sydney!" He shot out of his chair and turned towards the door. As if suddenly realising something, he turned back to her and added to her confusion by announcing that he was going to get a doctor and would she be okay by herself for a moment? Sydney was too shocked and dazed to respond so, deciding that she would be okay, he turned towards the door once more. He was hesitant to leave and his journey out of the room was punctuated by his turning back around to gaze at her open-mouthed several times.  
  
Sydney was left to wonder where she was, what she was doing there, and what had happened to the room she had been in only moments before. She was so sure she had been there. But she hadn't seen it, had she? If only she'd opened her eyes earlier, she might have had some idea of what was going on! She knew the man who had just left the room, that much was obvious from the fact that she had awoken curled up next to him in bed, both of them naked nonetheless. But had that really happened? The bed she was in now, and the uncomfortable hospital clothes she was wearing seemed to suggest otherwise. She knew him, though. She was positive she did. He'd known her name, after all, and he'd been holding her hand until he'd left the room.  
  
Presently he returned, this time with a tall doctor. Vaughn and the doctor were arguing; Sydney heard Vaughn earnestly telling him that she was "awake, really awake!" The doctor apparently thought he was lying, and was trying to calm an excited Vaughn with suggestions that he wasn't sleeping enough. When he saw that Sydney's eyes were open and that she had moved a little, the doctor did a double take, which would have been comical had the situation not been so important. He fussed around her for a while, all the time mumbling such phrases as "well, I never!", "it's a miracle!" and "this is extraordinary!". Vaughn, too, seemed overjoyed at the whole thing, but Sydney was still terribly confused and beginning to be a little frightened.  
  
"I'll call her father," said the doctor, when he was finally done. "Make sure she gets some sleep, she's still very weak." Vaughn nodded and took up his place in the chair beside Sydney's bed. When they were alone, Sydney raised her head slightly, but finding it much too heavy to hold up, she flopped back down onto the pillow.  
  
"Where am I?" she asked, when she was comfortable again. Vaughn took a deep breath. He hadn't been prepared for this and wasn't sure how Sydney would react to the news.  
  
"You're in a hospital. You've been in a coma for two years,"  
  
Sydney shot bolt upright in her bed, ignoring the stabs of pain that shot through her as she did so. "No!" she said forcefully, and glared at Vaughn.  
  
"Syd, I know it's hard - I mean, I can't even imagine what it must be like to be told this. Please lie down," he begged her, deeply concerned about this woman who, until just recently, he had never even had more than a one- sided conversation with. Too tired to argue, Sydney complied and settled herself back in the bed. She stared up at the ceiling, trying to process what she had just been told. She was suddenly full of questions and wanted them all answered at once. After some consideration, she decided to ask the one that was least likely to cause more emotional trauma.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
Vaughn looked disappointed. She had said his name when she woke up, and he assumed that meant she knew him, although he had no idea how that was at all possible. "I'm Michael Vaughn," he said with a smile. "I work for the CIA. You're in a CIA hospital,"  
  
"You know, it's funny. I knew that. I have no idea how, but I did,"  
  
"I've visited you every day for the past two years, you probably heard me talking to you. People in comas are supposed to be able to hear things," he finished a little uncertainly. Sydney tried to smile, but it hurt her dry, cracked lips. Seeing her pain, Vaughn got up and filled a glass with water. Sitting back down, he held it out to her. She took it with a shaking hand, and very nearly upset the whole glass on the bed. Vaughn saw that she was unable to hold it herself, so he took it back and set it down on the table while he helped her into a sitting position. He held the glass to her lips and she drank a little of the cool water. When she had finished, Vaughn made sure that she was comfortably lying down again before returning to his seat.  
  
"Do you remember anything?" he asked, after a little silence had ensued. Sydney frowned. She remembered things, but she didn't know how she had come to be in a coma and that was what she was most interested in at present.  
  
"I remember some things. But I don't know if they really happened or not. Hey, only half an hour ago I was waking up in bed with -" she stopped suddenly, realising where her sentence was going. Vaughn saw that she was uncomfortable and didn't press her to finish. "What I mean is," she continued, half in an attempt to cover her mistake, "I've been dreaming for the last two years and it's hard to make out what was part of the dream and what wasn't."  
  
Vaughn wasn't sure what to say, and the pair lapsed into a warm silence. Sydney's eyes began to close, though she was making a conscious effort to stay awake.  
  
"You look tired," Vaughn remarked gently.  
  
"I am," she said, with a little sigh and a smile.  
  
"You should get some sleep. We'll figure everything out when you wake up again," he promised. She smiled again, and closed her eyes, drifting off into a much-needed sleep almost before her eyelashes brushed against her cheeks. Vaughn looked down at her affectionately for a moment before getting up. He was reluctant to leave, and was worried that Sydney's sleep would cause her to slip back into her coma, but her gentle breathing showed him that this was a healthy sleep and he reflected that she must really need it. Waking oneself from a coma was a tiring business, he supposed.  
  
Sydney slept soundly for most of that day, and when she awoke she found that a tired looking Vaughn was still sitting patiently by her side, and that another chair had been pulled up next to his for her father. This time, she was prepared for what she would see when she opened her eyes, and her sleep had given her some perspective. It was now easier for her to draw the line between her dream world and reality and she found that her "memories" of the past years, were a little less real.  
  
"Sydney, you're awake," said Jack, somewhat unnecessarily. Sydney wasn't sure how to react to his appearance. In her own version of the past two years they had been close, but they had hardly known each other before that. It dawned on her that her real relationship with her father was probably even more strained that it had been before her coma (a time which she still remembered, after all her coma-world had picked up where the real world left off). There couldn't have been any father-daughter bonding sessions of late, due to obvious reasons, and Sydney couldn't help wondering how often her father had come to visit her.  
  
"Dad," she breathed. The tears gathering at her eyes made the decision for her, and her reaction was an emotional one. Jack bent forward and kissed her carefully on her forehead. After that he seemed unsure of what to do, so Vaughn got up intending to give the two of them some time alone. "Agent Vaughn, don't go!" Jack called out. Time alone with his daughter would be strained, and he didn't want to put either himself or her under the pressure of trying to force a relationship simply because the situation called for it. "I think you should be here to help answer Sydney's questions. I'm sure you have a lot of them," he glanced at Sydney as he said this and she nodded slightly. Vaughn sat back down, and took Sydney's hand in his when she looked imploringly up at him. She smiled at this and took strength from him to ask a question that had troubled her even in sleep.  
  
"How did the coma happen?" she asked, not sure she wanted to know the answer.  
  
"We don't know," Jack replied with a frown. "We were hoping you might remember, actually,"  
  
"I don't," Sydney looked downcast.  
  
"It may come back to you eventually," Vaughn offered, reassuringly.  
  
"After Danny died," Jack continued. Sydney jerked her head up. Although she had dealt with his death and moved on in her dream, she had begun to entertain hopes that he had not died at all. Vaughn rubbed his thumb across the back of her hand, saddened by her obvious pain, and silently wished that she didn't have to go through this. Jack paused momentarily before carrying on. "After Danny died, and I told you the truth about SD- 6. . ." Jack trailed off. The next part was hard for him to say, and he felt that he was responsible for what had happened to Sydney.  
  
"Yeah?" Sydney prompted.  
  
"You got out of the car. . . you were crying. I drove away and left you, Sydney, I left you! I know I was never a good father to you, but I never meant for this to happen,"  
  
"Dad, of course you didn't! I know that!" Sydney said emphatically.  
  
"We found you lying in an alley near where your father dropped you off." Vaughn finished the story in a quiet voice. Sydney brought her hands up to her head and ran her fingers through her messy hair. She rubbed her hand across her eyes, a small grimace of concentration on her pretty features.  
  
"I remember this," she said slowly, trying to fit the pieces of the puzzle together. "I remember being in the alley. . . someone came up behind me. I don't know what happened after that but then I was on a plane and I was brought to the CIA."  
  
Jack shook his head. "That never happened," he said. "Agent Vaughn was supposed to meet you, but when you never showed up he went back to where you'd last been seen. That was where he found you, and he took you straight to a hospital. You were there for two weeks, Sydney, and the doctors wanted to give up on you but I wouldn't let them. I had failed you so many times, and I wasn't going to give you up without a fight," he smiled a gruff little smile at his daughter before continuing. "It took a lot of arguing and a rather large sum of money but in the end they relented and you were transferred here. This has been your room ever since."  
  
Sydney laughed a raspy little laugh when she thought of how different she had dreamed her life to be.  
  
"What happened after you were taken to the CIA?" asked Vaughn, interested in what Sydney had dreamt about for two years.  
  
And Sydney began her story. She talked for two hours and told it well, from beginning to end, and her audience were entranced by the twists and turns it took. Jack was shocked by his torture of Will, a man he had only met a few times when they had been visiting Sydney in hospital at the same time, and he was greatly moved by the revelation that Irina was alive. Vaughn was rather amused by Sydney's inventing a girlfriend for him, someone Sydney had placed in her dream to keep them apart. Sydney laughed out loud when he told her that Alice didn't exist, and she wondered dryly how she had ever considered a fictitious character as serious competition. She missed out details such as the date in France that she and Vaughn had been on, their kiss after the SD-6 takedown, and finally, the night they had made love. This was mainly to save herself and Vaughn from the certain embarrassment of talking about these things, but also because she wanted to keep those particular memories separate from the rest of the dream.  
  
"That's quite a dream," Jack said, at length, when they had heard the end.  
  
"It's amazing," Vaughn agreed.  
  
"Well, it took me two years," Sydney smiled. Though talking for so long had tired her a lot, it had made her feel better, and had helped to ground her in the real world. "So, are you gonna tell me what really happened?" she asked, looking from one to the other. "Is The Alliance still around? Is Sloane alive? How are Francie and Will?"  
  
Jack laughed. "One question at a time," he said. And so began the real story of the past two years.  
  
TBC. . . 


	2. Reunited

Thanks to those of you who reviewed the first chapter. Everyone reading this, please, please review even if you don't think the story is very good. Any criticism is welcome (as long as it's not too mean!:). I just want to know if people are reading, cause I need a bit of reassuring about this fic.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
"So?" Sydney asked impatiently.  
  
"Lie down first," Jack ordered. "You've been sitting up like that for a while, and you look worn out."  
  
"I'm fine," Sydney replied obstinately.  
  
"You're clearly not," Jack sounded annoyed with his daughter. "Now lie down and stop fussing,"  
  
Sydney obeyed, but not without making a few faces at her father. She was not in the habit of taking orders from him, and didn't like the idea of starting now. Jack wisely ignored all this, and when she was comfortable he began.  
  
"After Agent Vaughn took you to the hospital, he called me and told me what had happened. I came at once, and the Director at the CIA was -"  
  
"Wait a minute," Sydney broke in. "Why was Vaughn going to meet me?"  
  
"I was going to be your handler at the CIA," Vaughn told her. Jack nodded, and continued with the story.  
  
"The Director at the CIA was very worried. We thought someone at SD-6 might have over heard our conversation and that Sloane had sent someone to. . . deal with you." Jack phrased this last part delicately, though all three knew exactly what he meant. "I can only assume, since Sloane said or did nothing to me, that the attack on you was completely random and nothing to do with SD-6."  
  
"We didn't think the coma would last long, so I came to visit you every day in the hope that you would wake up and I would be able to answer your questions about SD-6," Vaughn took up the story. "Your father told Sloane that you'd been attacked and that you were in hospital. When you were moved here, he told Sloane that you'd died."  
  
"What did he say?" gasped Sydney.  
  
"He feigned distress, of course," spat Jack. "He offered me condolences, and said you were like a daughter to him."  
  
Seeing that Jack was getting upset and angry, Vaughn took over again.  
  
"I was assigned another agent, and we continued our work towards bringing The Alliance down. We were successful last night. Sloane was there when it happened. We were planning to take him into CIA custody, but he was hit by a stray bullet and died instantly."  
  
Sydney was hit by a sudden realization. "I think that's what the voice meant," she whispered.  
  
"What?" asked the two men in unison.  
  
"This morning when I woke up. . . before I woke up, I mean," Jack and Vaughn looked thoroughly confused. "When I woke up in the dream" Sydney tried again, " I was awake but I hadn't opened my eyes yet. I heard a voice in my head and it told me that it was safe to wake up now. Somehow I must have realized that The Alliance was gone, and I would be safe in the real world."  
  
"I meant to ask you about that, actually," ventured Vaughn. "Something must have triggered you waking up. Maybe it was that you somehow knew about The Alliance and Sloane. . . but I don't know. I'm not sure if that could penetrate into your coma. What happened in the dream just before you woke up?"  
  
"I woke up in the dream just before I woke up here. I've told you that already," Sydney replied, perhaps a little too quickly.  
  
"Agent Vaughn has a good point, Sydney. What happened before you woke up? Before you went to sleep even?"  
  
"I - I don't remember," Sydney flushed a little, and hoped they didn't notice.  
  
"Try harder," Jack persisted. "You remember everything else that happened. Whatever happened before you woke up must have put you in the right state of mind to wake up in the real world."  
  
By this time, Sydney was blushing furiously and didn't dare to raise her eyes to meet Vaughn's. "I don't remember," she repeated. "And I'm really tired now. We can talk about it tomorrow." She punctuated the end of her sentence with a yawn, which was mostly genuine, but a little exaggerated for good effect.  
  
"Of course," Jack said, getting up to leave. Vaughn smiled at her and followed suit. "Oh, and to answer your other question: Francie and Will are both very well. Francie married Charlie a year ago," saying this, Jack smiled and left, leaving Vaughn to take one last glance at Sydney now sitting up in shock, and follow her father out of the room.  
  
"She *married* him? But he -" Sydney stopped and reminded herself that Charlie's dishonest actions had only been in her head. The real world was going to take some getting used to.  
  
* * *  
  
The next morning, Sydney woke up to the sound of someone bustling around her room. When she opened her eyes, she was surprised to see that she was alone, save for the busy nurse who was currently rearranging everything she could lay her hands on.  
  
"Where are they?" asked Sydney, her voice still croaky from sleep.  
  
"Who?" asked the nurse. Sydney looked pointedly at the chairs beside her bed. "Oh, you mean Agent Bristow and Agent Vaughn?" Sydney nodded. The nurse laughed. It was a high, almost melodic sound that betrayed her obviously bubbly personality, and made Sydney like her instantly. "They had to work!" she exclaimed. "They can't be here all the time you know, they've got jobs to do!" she glanced round at Sydney sympathetically, pausing momentarily in drawing the curtains back. "Agent Vaughn promised to stop by later though. And Agent Bristow said he was goin' to call your friends."  
  
"Can I get up?" Sydney asked, pushing herself into a sitting position. The nurse laughed again.  
  
"Get up? You've gotta stay in bed for a few more days 'til you're ready! You don't wanna go makin' yourself worse!"  
  
"I'm fine," Sydney insisted eagerly.  
  
"You only woke up outta your coma yesterday. You've gotta take things slowly," the nurse said, perching herself on the edge of Sydney's bed. She glanced up as the door clicked open. "Well, I've got other rooms to see to," she got up as Francie and Will entered. "You make sure she stays in bed," she warned Will, giving Sydney a meaningful look before leaving.  
  
Armed with flowers, chocolates and a big cardboard box, Francie and Will approached the bed. The three friends had a tearful reunion. Francie repeated over and over how much she loved Sydney, and Sydney cried and cried. She let all the emotions that had been building inside her come pouring out. Anger and confusion, longing and love streamed down her cheeks as salty tears. Will took Sydney in his arms and rocked her slowly back and forth, comforting her as best he could. He pulled Francie into the hug, and they sat there, together, crying and making promises as time passed over their heads.  
  
When they had nothing left to cry, they pulled apart. Will took up one of the chairs; Francie chose to stay closer to Sydney and sat opposite her on the bed.  
  
"What's in the box?" asked Sydney curiously.  
  
"We figured you'd get bored in bed all day," began Will  
  
"So we brought you some books and stuff," finished Francie, lifting the box and bringing it into her lap. Sydney looked into it briefly, and was assured that she wouldn't have much time for boredom. They had provided her with a lot of her books from home, and some new ones too. There was also a pack of cards, and a few board games, though Sydney was not sure she would be able to find someone to play them with her. There were some girly magazines, courtesy of Francie and, guessing that she would be in hospital clothes, they had also thought to bring enough of her own clothes to last her for the rest of her hospital stay, which Jack had told them would probably be a week or two.  
  
When they had finished looking through the box, and Will had found a vase and water for the flowers and was sitting down again, he nudged Francie and muttered something to her that Sydney could not hear. Francie giggled and whispered something back. After a little more persuasion on Will's part, Francie bent down to the floor, where she had left something earlier, and held out a big photo album to Sydney.  
  
"I don't know if you want to see them, but these are my wedding photos," She explained, a little nervously.  
  
"Of course I want to see them!" Sydney exclaimed.  
  
"See, I told you she would," said Will triumphantly.  
  
"Why did you think I wouldn't?" Sydney asked, opening the album but looking at her friend.  
  
"Well, I didn't - I thought maybe you might not want to see them because you weren't there. I thought it might be too painful for you to be reminded that you've been in a coma for two years."  
  
Sydney gave her friend an affectionate look and then replied seriously, "Francie, I admit it is hard to deal with, but I'm going to have to be reminded of it every minute for a long time. I won't deny that I'm finding it difficult and painful right now, but seeing your photos won't make that worse. It might even help me - I want to find out everything that's happened so that I can get past this."  
  
Francie smiled at her, tears coming to her eyes again. She hurriedly blinked them away and moved to sit beside Sydney on the bed. The three of them spent hours exclaiming over memories and photographs of the wedding. Silent tears coursed down Sydney's cheeks when she saw Francie in her beautiful dress and she wished more than anything that she could have been there. They all laughed at the terrified expression on Charlie's face as he danced with Francie's mother and Sydney hid her jealousy when she saw the numerous pictures of Francie and Will together. She should have been there. There should have been pictures of all three of them laughing and dancing together. It was obvious that Francie and Will had become much closer since the accident, and though she knew it was not her fault, she felt guilty that she hadn't been there for Francie's special day. She hated herself for feeling jealous of their close bond, and vowed to herself that she would make up for lost time as quickly and as much as she could.  
  
"It looks like it was perfect," sighed Sydney enviously, when they came to the end of the album.  
  
"It was," Francie smiled. "Almost."  
  
* * *  
  
Vaughn ran a tired hand through his hair and tapped aimlessly at the keyboard. He looked at what he had written so far, and on reading it, promptly deleted it and started again. His mind wasn't on this latest report, and there was nothing he could do to force himself to concentrate. His thoughts drifted once again to the hospital and he wondered for the millionth time if Sydney was awake. He pictured her in his mind; beautiful and fragile, yet full of determination. He'd sat by her side every day for two years. That was seven hundred and thirty days. It hadn't felt like it. At times it had felt longer, but sometimes, the days would fly by as if they were mere minutes. He'd been her most frequent visitor, coming more often and staying longer than even Jack Bristow. At first the hospital staff had been surprised, and wondered why he came so often, but with time they became accustomed to him and his visits became routine, he himself just a part of the furniture in Sydney's little room. Though they seemed it, his visits were never routine to *him*. Every day after work. If he was working late, mornings before work. He never missed a day. He spent both Christmases with his mother, coming home early to visit Sydney, hoping and praying for the kind of Christmas miracle that happens in sentimental movies with fake snow and twinkling lights. Sometimes he imagined her waking up, as he sat there holding her hand, so still she could have been a doll. He imagined the light in her brown eyes, the way her eyes smiled in the picture of her that stood on the table by her bed. He tried to imagine what her voice would sound like, the things she would say and how she would laugh. To begin with, he was just a prospective handler, waiting for his prospective asset to wake up so they could start to work together. He wasn't sure exactly when that had changed, but it had. He had been assigned another agent, yet his visits didn't stop. In fact, they became more frequent. He willed her to wake up, telling himself and her that the CIA needed her. That her father needed her. That he needed her. He added this to his whispered prayers one time, as an afterthought, but as soon as he said it he realized the truth in it. He needed her. And he thought - just maybe - he was falling in love. After that his visits were different. He pleaded with her to come back, not for her sake or her father's sake, but his own. He wasn't sure how it was possible to love someone who's eyes you have never looked into, who's voice you have never heard, but he was sure that he did. He told her the details of his day, the jokes Weiss had made and the arguments he'd had with his temperamental asset. He talked to her about movies and music, hockey and baseball. He carried on lengthy one-sided conversations with her, confiding in her as if she could comfort him.  
  
"You need to tell her," Vaughn was startled by Weiss' voice.  
  
"Need to tell her what?" he stammered when he realised where he was.  
  
"That you're sorry you walked out on her! Jeez, what did you think I was talking about?"  
  
"Huh?" Vaughn was still dazed from being snapped out of his thoughts so suddenly. Weiss rolled his eyes and began again, speaking slowly and patiently as if he was talking to a child.  
  
"You need to tell Simona that you are sorry you yelled at her," he emphasised each word looking closely at Vaughn as he spoke. "And you better hope she forgives you this time, or you're gonna get hell from Kendall when you don't hand that report in,"  
  
Vaughn sighed and mumbled an agreement, finally catching onto his friend. He and his asset, Simona, had had another of their blazing rows the night before. He couldn't even remember what it was about, but he was sure it had something to do with her not following orders and him trying to force her to - it always was. He wondered briefly what Sydney would have been like to work with. She seemed pleasant enough, but she also had a definite stubborn side to her. He picked up the phone to call Simona, the usual apology - it was *always* he who apologised - ready at his lips. Weiss' words echoed around his mind, his words taking on a different meaning. "You need to tell her,"  
  
TBC. . .  
  
Please review!!! 


	3. Just A Dream

I'm really, really sorry about the long wait for this chapter. I've had so much trouble writing this one - basically I suck majorly at writing anything remotely fluffy so it took me ages to write the first S/V scene in this chapter. I still hate it, and it's awful and corny and I know that I can't write fluff to save my life so I just decided that it's the best I can do for now. If you all hate it, I'll have another go at it though, so please, please review to tell me what you think.  
  
Also, please read my CM JJ Challenge entries "One Side Of The Coin" and "Through The Looking Glass". No one reviewed them *sob*, actually, probably no one read them either. Anyways, they are partly the reason this chapter is so delayed because I spent ages on those two fics.  
  
I hope the huge amount of time since chapter 2 didn't make you all lose interest in this story - if you're still reading please review to let me know what you think of it - it would make my day. . . or week. . .or month. . . or year. . .or. . .I think you get the idea :)  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A few days passed and Vaughn's visits quickly became the highlight of Sydney's day. Francie and Will spent a lot of time with her, but she still felt jabs of jealously at their closeness and when the three friends talked, Francie, always afraid of upsetting Sydney or reminding her of the last two years, spoke as if she was skating on very thin ice. Jack came to see her whenever he could, but their moments together were strained and full of uncomfortable silences. Vaughn had no real excuse to see her, other than the force of habit, so his appearances were less frequent than the others', as he could not take time off work the way they could. However, every spare moment he had was spent at Sydney's side and he found that he could talk and laugh with her as effortlessly as if they had known each other all their lives. He had still not worked up the courage to tell her how he felt about her, telling himself that it was best to wait for a few more days until she was less confused.  
  
Every morning Sydney psyched herself up to tell Vaughn about their relationship in her dream, and every evening she failed to tell him. She was aware that her time with him was quickly running out; in a week and a half she would probably be going home and Vaughn would no longer be a part of her life. Determined to finally say something, Sydney was consumed by an anxious anticipation all day and found it impossible to concentrate on anything. Jack called the hospital in the early afternoon to say he was busy and would be unable to visit; an excuse Sydney knew was a lie because Vaughn had told her that Jack had been given time off work to spend time with his daughter. In any other circumstances Sydney would have been heartbroken but today she didn't want to see anyone except Vaughn, and he was also the person she wanted to see least. She half-listened to Will's well-meant chatter and trivial jokes, laughing weakly or nodding her head whenever it seemed necessary. After her tenth glance at the clock in as many minutes, Will asked why she seemed so distracted but she shook her head and told him she was fine; Francie was too worried about saying something wrong to notice. Sydney was glad when they had to leave, though she immediately felt ashamed of herself for thinking like that so soon after deciding to make up for all the time she had missed with them.  
  
Sydney spent the impatient hour until Vaughn's visit imagining all the ways her confession could go horribly wrong. She allowed herself to spend the last fifteen minutes dreaming of Vaughn responding with the declaration of his own deep and passionate love for her. By the time he arrived at the hospital her fantasies were so detailed and his possible responses were so beautiful that her cheeks were coloured by a deep blush and her eyes shone when he tapped lightly on the door and pushed it open.  
  
"Hey," he greeted her with his usual friendliness.  
  
"Michael, hi," she replied, trying to hold back the enthusiasm in her voice.  
  
"You look much healthier today," he commented, taking his usual seat and pulling it closer to the bed.  
  
"Yeah, I feel a lot better," she flashed him a bright smile, all her fears beginning to seep away.  
  
"Wanna play Monopoly again? I bet I'll win this time," Playing Monopoly had begun as simply a way to stay in each other's company for a few hours, since the game took a long time to play. A few minutes of playing, however, had proved that they were both very competitive and, as it provided a lot of opportunity to talk and get to know each other, they both had a newfound love of the game.  
  
Sydney laughed. "Michael, I've beaten you three times already. I'm getting a little sick of winning so easily," she teased him. Then growing serious, she continued, "actually, there's something I need to talk to you about."  
  
"What is it? Is something wrong?" he asked, surprise and concern leaping into his voice.  
  
"No, nothing's wrong," she hurriedly assured him. "It's just. . . I'm finding it hard to completely let go of my dream world, and I think that might be because I didn't tell you all of it." Sydney looked down into her lap and wrung her hands nervously.  
  
"Why not?" asked Vaughn, confused.  
  
"Because if I said it was only a part of a dream, it wouldn't seem real anymore and I wanted it to," she replied, so quietly he almost didn't hear it.  
  
"What is it?" His voice was gentle and coaxing, and Sydney was soothed into telling him.  
  
"In the dream, you. . . you and I were together. We were in love." She looked away, embarrassed and unable to look at him. "I know it doesn't mean anything. . . it was just a dream, right? But we were so deeply in love. It's just hard to shake a feeling as strong as that, and seeing you here every day. . . I'm just so confused because I still have all these feelings about you and I know it's stupid because you might be married or have a girlfriend. . . and I hardly know you at all. But I feel as if I do and -"  
  
"Syd," he cut her off, putting two fingers under her chin and bringing her face back around to look at his. "I'm glad you told me, because there's something I want to tell you too. It's going to sound strange, and probably really stupid, but after what you just said, I can't let the opportunity go by," he took a deep breath. "Sydney, I love you. I know that sounds ridiculous, but maybe if you knew how much time I'd spent just sitting here watching you and talking to you. . . well, maybe you'd think it wasn't so ridiculous. Anyway, what I want to say is: I think you're amazing. Before you woke up, I was enchanted by your loveliness and I wanted more than anything to protect you. Now that I know you, I'm in awe of your strength and courage and determination as well. You're sweet and kind and funny, I've never met anyone like you."  
  
As he spoke, Sydney's eyes filled with tears. She was deeply touched by his beautiful words, even her most elaborate fantasies hadn't come close to the feeling she had now, gazing into his emotion-filled eyes and feeling him gazing back into hers.  
  
Finally finding her voice, Sydney spoke. "So, do you think there's a chance that there's a part of the dream I don't have to let go of?" Vaughn smiled. "I think there just might be."  
  
An hour or so later, Vaughn sat on Sydney's bed next to her, one arm around her shoulders protectively holding her close. She was under the covers and propped up against the pillows. Her hands were in her lap, holding Vaughn's free hand between her own. Since they were now being completely honest with each other, neither had been able to stop talking for the past hour. They had a lot to talk about after the breakthrough in their relationship, and their first kiss had been a second breakthrough, which prompted more talk about their feelings for each other.  
  
They both looked up as the door clicked open, and Vaughn moved uneasily back into the chair, secretly worried that their visitor would be Jack Bristow. He was relieved to see a young blond doctor entered, a specialist who had checked on Sydney once a week during her coma and was now fascinated by her miraculous recovery. One look at Sydney, however, spun his emotions around inside him, and turned his thoughts upside down. She was pressed back as far as she could get into the pillows, her eyes screwed shut and a look of pure terror on her face. She shook her head vigorously, repeating in a whisper the words "Just a dream, it was just a dream."  
  
Vaughn was on his feet immediately, prying her hands away from her face and gently soothing her with whispered words of adoration and comfort.  
  
"Syd, it's okay. Shhh. He won't hurt you, I promise. He's a specialist, he's been checking on you every week."  
  
"No," she said in a low, dangerous voice. "He is not touching me."  
  
"Sydney, please let me help you," the doctor stepped forward but Sydney put her hands over her ears to block out his voice, his accent unmistakable. "I'm Dr. Sark -"  
  
"You're not him. Not him. Just a dream." Sydney's frantic muttering stopped him mid-sentence.  
  
"Wait a minute," Vaughn ordered, putting out his hand to stop Dr. Sark moving any nearer as he finally understood. "Sydney. Syd, look at me. Dr. Sark was in your dream?" she nodded. "You don't have to see him today, but only if you tell me why you don't want to. Then we can get past it together. Do we have a deal?"  
  
She looked at him suspiciously for a second, and instantly saw that she could trust him to keep his word. "Okay," she nodded, in a small voice.  
  
"Okay," he said pulling her to him again and kissing the top of her head. She cried quietly against his shoulder and he rocked her slowly, pleased and grateful that he seemed to be able to console her when she needed it. When they pulled apart and leant back against the headboard again, Sark was gone.  
  
"I wish I could just get past all this," Sydney sighed as she wiped the last few tears from her eyes.  
  
"You will. *We* will. Sydney, what did he do to you?" Vaughn broached the subject nervously, not wanting to upset her again. But Sydney had calmed down considerably, and was now thinking rationally again.  
  
When she had told him every last detail of Sark's involvement in her dream, she felt much better. She hadn't focused much on him when she told Vaughn and Jack about her dream, somehow thinking that he didn't really matter as much as Sloane or Irina. But now she realised that she had been scared of his power too, and it felt good to get that fear out into the open.  
  
"I really don't know why I got so scared," she said with a hollow laugh, attempting to make light of the situation.  
  
"I do," Vaughn replied quietly. She smiled at him. "You're trying to let go of everything that's happened to you - well *almost* everything -" he paused to grin at her. "And Sark reminded you of everything you're trying to move past. You just got scared that you weren't away from it all yet. Look, Syd, I know you don't want to see him, but I think it will help you move on. If you're really adamant that you won't, then I'll arrange for someone else to take over, but I think it's best for you to get it over with."  
  
"How come you're so understanding?" she smiled at him, then sighed before continuing. "You're right though, I need to just face him and move on with my life."  
  
"Right. And since you're skipping your appointment with Dr. Sark, we now have an extra half hour to ourselves. What do you think we should do?" he grinned mischievously at her. But she returned his look with a raised eyebrow.  
  
"We're in a hospital room. I think we should wait until I'm out of here until we, uh, get to know each other better," she said, with amusement.  
  
"Hey, who said anything about that? I was going to say, it's about time I beat you at *something*, and since Monopoly seems to be your game, I suggest we play cards."  
  
"Michael!" she hit him playfully on the arm and laughed when he produced a pack of cards from the box by her bed.  
  
"Well, if it helps, I liked your idea a lot more but it's kind of impractical, as you so rightly pointed out." He grinned again, and she rolled her eyes and laughed as he began to deal the cards.  
  
TBC..... 


	4. Hero

"Good morning, Sydney." Jack spoke a little uncomfortably as he entered the room. He felt guilty about not visiting the day before, and to make up for it, he held in his hands a huge bouquet of beautiful pink and white flowers.  
  
"Thank you," Sydney breathed, as she took them from him. She was amazed by their beauty, and also by the fact that her father had been able to pick out flowers that she would like. It had long been her suspicion that he didn't know what a flower was, a feeling that she felt was entirely justified; Jack Bristow was not known for his sentimentality. He sat down in the chair and cleared his throat awkwardly.  
  
"Agent Vaughn told me what happened with Dr. Sark," he stated.  
  
Sydney had been prepared for this, and began quickly to explain. "I'm sorry I refused to see him like that, I know I shouldn't have. He was only trying to -"  
  
When he realised that she misunderstood, Jack cut her off. "Sydney, you did the right thing. You should deal with things in your own way, and in your own time. I just want you to know that. . . that if you don't want to see him, you don't have to," he paused, glancing around the room as if he would find the words he wanted to say printed on the curtains, or floating around in the glass of water on the table. "And if you ever need me to do anything - anything at all - I will."  
  
Sydney smiled at him, trying to force herself not to cry, and remembered a time when he had said something similar to her. She was seven years old, and her mother had died a year ago. She was always quiet and upset, burying herself in her seven-year-old-sized amount of schoolwork and refusing anyone who tried to be friends with her. A group of boys in her class had found this amusing and had tormented her relentlessly, and Sydney went home from school in tears on a daily basis. In an effort to escape from their teasing, she had faked a stomachache and her father had been called in to take her home. Despite being an absentee father, Jack had immediately seen that she wasn't really sick and had snapped at her for wasting his time. This was too much for the little girl, and she had dissolved into tears. Stunned and unsure of what to do, Jack enveloped her in a warm hug and let her sob against his shoulder. On his gentle order, she told him what was going on and, fuming, he marched her outside to where the other children where playing. Furious that other children were making his beautiful, sweet little girl so unhappy he went right up to the boys Sydney pointed out and scared the hell out of them. They were so terrified of the man towering over them that they stammered apologies to Sydney and then ran to the other side of the playground.  
  
Sitting in her hospital bed, Sydney remembered the way she had gazed up at him, a look of pure admiration on her face. He had been her knight in shining armour that day, and she had thought he could do anything. She had never forgotten the reassurance those actions gave her; the reassurance that he loved her so much that he couldn't stand anyone being less than adoring towards her. She had never forgotten it because it was the last sign of affection she had from him until the day Danny died.  
  
* * *  
  
Jack stayed with her all morning, and just as he was getting up to leave Dr. Sark came in. Jack immediately sat back down again, and took Sydney's hand. She was grateful that he stayed; originally she had wanted Vaughn to be with her when she had to face Dr. Sark again but this morning she and her father had been growing closer and she was just as glad of comfort from him as she would have been of Vaughn.  
  
"Sydney, Agent Vaughn had informed me of your reasons for not wanting to see me, and I'd like you to know that you can take all the time you want. It's completely understandable that you don't want an appointment with me just yet, and I'll reschedule it for whenever you want."  
  
Taken aback by everyone's kindness, Sydney shook her head and told him that she wanted to get it over with now. Realising that that might offend him, she quickly tried to backtrack and make her statement less rude, but he just laughed it off and said he didn't blame her for wanting to be as far away from him as possible. Even though she was beginning to understand that Dr. Sark was almost a polar opposite to the Mr Sark she thought she had known, she couldn't help gripping Jack's hand tightly and pushing herself back into the pillows as he advanced towards her. He stopped, seeing her fear, and she closed her eyes, took a deep breath and forced herself to relax. She attempted to smile brightly at him, but it ended up as more of a weak half-smile. Jack squeezed her hand reassuringly and she reminded herself that no one was forcing her to do anything. The only person forcing her to go through with this was herself. Dr. Sark would stop if she asked him to, and besides, if he did anything she didn't like, Jack would beat him to a bloody pulp.  
  
"Okay?" asked the doctor, a little uncertainly.  
  
"Okay," Sydney confirmed, nodding. He began by assessing her in the same way her doctor had done when she was a child - looking at her eyes and listening to her heart rate. Every few seconds he paused to check that Sydney was still okay with him examining her, and though she flinched at every touch and tried to block wave after wave of pretend memories from washing through her mind, she assured him that she was fine.  
  
Soon he was finished and told her that she needed to be taken for a scan, to check that her brain wasn't damaged. Between them, he and Jack lifted her from her bed onto a bed that could be wheeled into the scanning room. At first she had obstinately shook her head, saying that she could walk there herself, or at least get onto the bed herself. But Jack was stern and insisted that she didn't try to use her legs so soon; after two years of lying down, she would have to learn to walk all over again. Sydney was apprehensive about the scan, and felt sick at the thought that there might still be something wrong with her. As she was wheeled along corridors, she stared up at the ceiling, blurred by the film of tears that glazed her eyes. A million terrifying thoughts rushed through her head - what if the scan went wrong? What if it didn't, and they found that her brain was damaged beyond repair? What if she could never walk again? Would she be able to live her life confined to a bed or a wheelchair?  
  
Jack was told to wait outside in the corridor, and when he stopped and she was wheeled past him, Sydney stretched out her arm, desperately trying to keep physical contact with him for as long as possible. She closed her eyes and focused on not crying out for her daddy, the way the little girl inside her wanted to.  
  
Breathe in.  
  
Breathe out.  
  
Breathe in.  
  
Breathe out.  
  
And in.  
  
And out.  
  
And in. Nothing to be afraid of.  
  
And out. Everything's fine.  
  
And in. It's just a scan - he won't hurt me.  
  
And out. Dad's waiting right outside.  
  
The door swung shut behind her as the bed was pushed into the room. She was lifted onto a table, one that would move into the worryingly white and hospital-like machine for her to have the scan.  
  
Breathe in. What if they find something wrong with me?  
  
Breathe out. They won't. I'm fine.  
  
Breathe in. It'll be over soon.  
  
Breathe out. Oh God, what if I can't breathe in there?  
  
In one slow and smooth action, the table glided into the machine, and Sydney was enclosed in the dark tube. She tried not to panic, but natural instincts kicked in, telling her it was too cramped, too dark, too much time.  
  
Hour-long seconds later, the table was moving again, sliding back out of the machine into the refreshing light thrown kindly through the windows by the sun. Sydney continued to stare up at the ceiling in terror while she was wheeled back to her room. Jack came and took her hand again, and though she saw him out of the corner of her eye, she did not acknowledge his presence. All she could think of was the million-and-one things, realistic or not, that they could have found in the scan.  
  
Dr Sark did not come back to Sydney's room with her; he stayed to analyse the scan and to discuss his patient with the other doctors involved. Just as Sydney was settled in her bed again, he came back, the results of the scan in his hand. In her blind panic, Sydney forgot to read his emotions in order to find out what he was going to tell her, but Jack was more able to think rationally, and he smiled at Sydney and squeezed her hand comfortingly.  
  
"Sydney, you're fine," Dr Sark said kindly. "We found nothing unusual in your scan - no damage to your brain whatsoever. As soon as you're well enough, physically, you can go home."  
  
The relief was almost too much for Sydney. The past few days had been highly emotional for her, and the worry of brain damage had weighted her down like a ton of bricks. Now that the bricks were lifted, she felt light- headed and, grabbing Jack and pulling him to her, she sobbed openly on his shoulder.  
  
"Thank you, thank you," was her repeated and almost unintelligible cry.  
  
"Thank you," said Jack, his words full of meaning as he held the doctor's gaze for a moment before giving his full attention to his daughter. 


End file.
